Beavis and Butthead. And Donald Trump

First of all, an apology: I am not the kind of radical person who waves a flag and loudly toots the horn of my convictions. I strive to keep any online space {of which I have control} free from politics. Because politics are ugly and polarizing and I want to believe in a sunshine and lollypop world.

But then some jokester played a big orange Trump-card on my pretty worldview.

Thanks a lot.

And even though I try to avoid it WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY HAPPY-GO-LUCKY BEING, it seems I can't. Because I dream about it.

And by profound, I mean weird. And by weird, I mean someone needs to make this one into a movie a la Sharknado quality...

So Beavis and Butthead are standing on the street. "Heh heh heh" "huh huh huh" {I mean, gross — whoever came up with those characters is insane!} They're hungry. And it's perfectly sensible that they'd think the sun was a cookie. So they pull it down from the sky and they eat it. "Heh heh heh" "huh huh huh"

One of them walks down the street to where Hillary Clinton is standing, waiting patiently and not at all strangely. They share a passionate kiss {again, gross!}.

"Heh heh heh" "huh huh huh"

Hillary walks down the street to where Donald Trump is standing, waiting patiently and not at all strangely. She puts her hands on her hips, leans forward and opens her mouth wide, from which a ball of fire spews forth, engulfing poor ol' Donald. She wipes her lips on the sleeve of her blue pantsuit and marches through his ashes.

"Heh heh heh" "huh huh huh"

And the whole time, No Time To Crank The Sun by El VY, is playing in the background. Seriously. I've had that song in my head now for three whole days now!

So this isn't really a political post. It's just a dream journal entry.

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MEET ALANNA

Alanna lives on a small patch of untameable land in mid-western Ontario with her three children, husband, and an overweight cat. Fuelled by copious amounts of tea and chocolate, she writes fiction and creative non-fiction from within her tiny study.

Tuesday. The sun rose and a pit settled in my belly, a low fist that made my cereal seem drier than usual, slowly twisting, just enough to ...

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